


A Kumi-cho's Duty

by yutorin



Series: The Heisei Kumi [2]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment, Johnny's Jr., Ya-ya-yah (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Cancer, Gen, I was fifteen, Mentioned previous character death, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Originally written in 2011, so...yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: Shoon, Kumi-cho of the Heisei Kumi for the Kitagawa Group, had been feeling unwell ever since Taiyo had died a few months previous. But when his annual doctor appointment rolls around his physician isn't sure that Shoon is simply grieving.





	A Kumi-cho's Duty

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally posted this to my livejournal account when I was something like fifteen. I did do a few very minor edits, but it is mostly unchanged. Still, I hope you enjoy it!

   Shoon lifted the lid of the pot, hot steam billowing out as he inspected the contents. Dinner would be ready soon. He sighed, the smell of food cooking no longer bringing him the happiness that it used to. Nothing brought him happiness anymore. Not since their last raid, a couple of months ago. Not since Taiyo died. He took deep breaths, feeling shaky. He had been feeling tired easier and easier lately, a dull ache pounding in his skull at all times. He turned off the stove, and with shaking hands, put the pots contents into a bowl, placing it on the table. He began setting the table, getting out 10 plates, and stacking them on the counter. Suddenly, one slipped out from his grip, crashing to the floor and shattering with a loud, destructive noise. Damn it.

  
    Inoo, Daiki, Takaki, and Chinen, who had been playing mahjong in the living room rushed in, looking concerned. Shoon was bombarded with ‘Are you okay, Kumi-cho?'s, Chinen’s big eyes sweeping the shattered plate's remnants in shock.   


     "I'm fine. It just slipped." He told them. It was true; but they didn't look like they believed it. He had good reflexes; he never dropped things, never missed anything. In their eyes he was nearly invincible. They helped him set the table, he called the rest of the boys together, and they all sat down to eat, having conversation as usual. The conversation was a newly renewed thing; they were healing, slowly letting their hearts scab over from their loss. He listened to them tell each other about what they were thinking, or events in their lives; swindling accounts and the like. He loved them all so much; he had a responsibility to take care of them, to help them get over their loss and grow.   


    After dinner Yabu and Takaki left to go clubbing. A new hobby. He pretended not to know it was because of Taiyo. Everyone dealt with their grief in their own way. He gave them their space, and hoped they could make responsible decisions. He retreated to his office, a room just off of the living room. Alone, he allowed the weariness onto his face, and he looked down at his constantly shaking hands. He pulled his agenda book, a gift from Hikaru, out of his drawer, examining what was planned for the rest of the week.   


    He had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Huh. He'd forgotten. Now that he thought about it, it was about time. Shoon got one every year, at around this time. His eyes scanned the page. He had to go talk with a couple of people about buying their buildings, living quarters for the underlings. The Kumi was growing, and things were getting tight. He was about to go ask Hikaru if he would brew him a pot of his favorite black tea, when a splitting pain suddenly struck him, taking over his head, forcing him out of his chair, to the floor, where he curled up, begging it to go away.   


    He couldn't think, couldn't hear, couldn't see; his mind a blank, white, torture cell. Then, after an immeasurable amount of time, it subsided. He was left sweaty, whimpers escaping his mouth, tears leaking from eyes that had been squeezed shut; and when his vision returned, he found himself next to his desk, hands tangled in his hair in fists. Shaking even more violently than before the attack, he removed his fingers from his hair, and pushed himself to a sitting position. Perhaps this doctor’s visit was a good idea.   


    Shoon pulled himself to his feet, wiping his face. He peeked his head out the door of his office, checking to see if the coast was clear, before coming out, tripping over the leg of the coffee table as he made his way to the kitchen, quietly making himself a cup of tea, sipping it, and calming down. He was just tired. He tried to convince himself. He decided to get some rest, and he would feel much better in the morning. With that decision made, he quickly slipped on his pajama bottoms, and got in bed, taking care not to fall asleep until he heard the hushed voices announcing that Yabu and Takaki had made it home safely.   


    The next morning, Shoon didn't feel any better. He felt exactly the same way he had yesterday; the weariness, the shaking, and the constant headache still there. Dread tugged at his heart, but he pushed it away. He hid it well; only Hikaru asked if he was feeling okay, and his friend didn't question the smile and the ‘I'm fine Hachibee’, easily accepting. He wrapped the worn blue scarf; a Christmas present from Inoo when the boy first joined the Kumi, around his neck and walked to the street he'd arranged to have his car pick him up, arriving at the doctor’s office twelve minutes early.   


   He didn't have to wait long. The doctor greeted him with a smile, shaking his hand. He knew about Shoon's profession, and just about everything else there was to know about his patient. Shoon couldn’t easily hide what he did, not with the tattoo he had covering his back. The doctor did the usual physical exam, Shoon passing with flying colors. He kept his body in good shape, he knew. After it was over, the doctor asked if he had any questions or concerns, obviously not expecting Shoon to say anything. Shoon sat silent for a minute, pondering on how to answer the question.   


   "Yes; there's been something unusual that I was hoping you could help me to understand." He began, catching the doctor’s attention. The man nodded, patiently listening, and Shoon continued.   


   "I've been getting tired a lot quicker recently than I used to, and I have this headache that won't go away. I assumed it was just fatigue, or depression at first, but then last night I had an...an attack...I guess that's what you'd call it. Now I don't know what to think." The doctor asked him about the 'attack', and Shoon described it to the best of his ability, the doctor’s frown getting more and more prominent as he explained. He asked Shoon many questions, many resulting in simple "No." answers; until he asked if he had noticed any other significant changes, such as his own emotional capacity, or his physical ability to doing things. Shoon sat in silence for over a minute, thinking calmly.   


    "I've become very clumsy, I used to have good reflexes, but I've been tripping and dropping things a lot...as for emotions, I'm not very happy, but..." He paused "I think it's unrelated. An important friend of mine died a couple of months ago...and we're all having a tough time accepting it." He caught the doctor’s eye, knowing that the man knew this death wasn’t something standard like an accident or illness, wondering if the man would ask about Taiyo. He didn’t, instead he just nodded, understanding. And so, the questioning continued. Finally, looking very serious, the doctor asked   


    "Yamashita-san, would it be possible for you to attend a CT scan today? It would be best to look into this immediately." So this was a big deal. Damn it. Now he was feeling nervous; but he agreed immediately, following the doctor to another end of the hospital. He changed into a hospital gown, feeling the stares and hearing the whispers as people noticed the tattoo covering his back. He kept quiet, pretending not to notice. His doctor left him with a set of other people wearing scrubs, and they quickly set up the scan, injecting his blood with dye, and having him lay on a flat piece, strapping him in, and mechanically pushing his body into the machine. He shut his eyes, taking long slow breaths to calm his nerves.   


    This was just a precaution. He wasn't even an adult yet, so it couldn't be anything serious. This was just a safety measure. That's what he told himself, repeating it over and over in his mind as they told him that they would have the results analyzed by the end of the week; as he left the hospital; as he went to his favorite cafe for chocolate pudding. For days he told himself that everything was fine. Until the hospital called. He was playing cards with Hikaru and their newest addition to the house—Ryutaro—Chinen sitting on the young boy’s lap, watching them play, when Yuto peaked his head in.   


    "Kumi-cho, there's someone on the phone for you...they said that they're from the hospital." Shoon's stomach twisted in a knot. Quickly, he excused himself from the card game, giving his cards to Yuto, patting the young boy on the head, and telling him to play in his place. With a grin, and an "I won't lose!" Yuto handed over the phone.   


    "Yamashita-san?" The voice on the other end was unrecognizable.   


    "Yes, that's me." He confirmed.   


    "Yamashita-san, your doctor requests that you come in to see him as soon as possible. When do you think you can make an appointment?" His mind raced. Another  appointment? He had just been there earlier that week. He—when was he free? He was broken out of his reverie by the person on the other end. He had left her hanging.   


    "S-sorry. Appointment, right. How's tomorrow morning? Nine fifteen?"   


    "I'll let your doctor know. Tomorrow at Nine fifteen; thank you." With that, the call ended.   


    Shoon didn’t rejoin the card game, instead he bid the others goodnight, telling them not to stay up too late, before retreating to his office and getting out his agenda, looking over the text blankly, not comprehending any of it, only feeling that dull pounding in his skull. He must be tired. He sighed, willing himself to focus, and realized that he couldn't read it. His brain wasn't comprehending the characters. He went back up to the first line; and with a shaking finger, forced himself to read it out loud, slowly. He did that until a wave of nausea hit him, and he rushed to his bathroom, vomiting into the toilet. Perhaps he was catching a virus or something.   


    Shoon let out a shaky breath, looking over himself in the mirror. He didn't have any physical damage; his chest, although impressively scarred from multiple series of knife fights over the years, was brawny, and strong. His back, although covered in his tattoo, wasn't showing anything out of the ordinary. His eyes were bright, not clouded over with anything. Yet, he was quivering, unsteady. He was probably still overtired. He was young, and he was probably working himself too hard. More sleep, and perhaps going a bit easier on himself, and he'd be feeling much better. Definitely. Through the wall he heard sounds announcing that Yabu and Takaki had once again made it home safely, and relieved, he went to bed.   


    The next day he arrived at the hospital half an hour early; yet as soon as he checked in he was waved back, his doctor seeming to have been waiting for him. He quickly got to work, pulling up the images from the CT scan.   


    "This-" The doctor pulled up another image. "-is a healthy brain of someone your age, Yamashita-san." He switched windows, back to the other pictures.   


    "This is your brain." The difference was noticeable immediately. There were two light gray blobs that weren't supposed to be there; small, and next to each other, on the right side, one slightly larger than the other.   


    "You have two abnormal growths on the right side of your parietal lobe. This is most likely the cause of your headaches, and seeing as the parietal lobe has to do with body movement, it could explain the clumsiness and shaking; depending on the nature of these growths."   


    Shoon just sat there, silently staring at the black and white images. He had...but, no! There must be some mistake. He was strong! He trained his body, and ate healthy, and didn't smoke or drink, or do drugs, or even have sex. He had never been very sick ever in his life...he hadn't done anything to cause this. Yet, he wasn't looking at this logically, he realized. This could be genetically related. It might not have anything to do with his care of his body. He might not have had a choice in this matter.   


    "Now what should I do?" He asked, determined. He needed to fix this. To figure out what this was and fix it so he could focus on his Kumi, on his family, and his duty to them. To protect them and help them grow. They had enough to deal with, what with Taiyo’s death still hanging over them. This needed to become a thing of the past as soon as possible. Hopefully this was one big misunderstanding, and once he completed some new tests it would be cleared up, and he could be given a bill of health; problem solved.   


    "We would like to do a MRI; this will give us more specific pictures of the growths, and perhaps help us identify anything the CT scan may have missed." Shoon found himself agreeing at once. The doctor smiled.   


    "Excellent. I took the liberty to make you an appointment already, in the assumption that you would agree to the scan. If you would just change and follow me..." He handed Shoon another hospital gown, and once Shoon was changed, he led him to another room with another set of people, and another machine. The scan went very similarly to the last one, Shoon now ridiculously nervous. This was probably just a mistake. He was just tired; pushing himself too much. They were making a mistake. His subconscious rejecting any acceptance his conscious tried to throw at it.   


    One week full of shaking, random vision failure, and two more head splitting collapses later, his doctor informed him that the growths were actually three, not two, a small one on the left that the CT scan had overlooked making itself apparent. They were now officially labeled tumors, much to Shoon’s horror. The doctor assured him that calling them tumors didn't necessarily mean that they were cancerous, and urged Shoon to get surgery as soon as possible, to have the tumors removed and examined. Shoon adamantly protested. He simply was having a hard time accepting this fate. He used mental excuses like the Kumi to back his decision up. He'd be putting them through so much; and just after Taiyo died. Just as they were finally beginning to heal. He couldn't do this to them.   


    Finally, over time with a bit of nagging and the threat of permanent physical impairments, Shoon agreed to a compromise. He would allow them to drill a tiny hole in his skull and extract a sample of one of his tumors. No surgery, so Shoon could continue life as normal, and the doctors could fully get an idea as to the seriousness of the situation. At home he could tell that some of his companions were beginning to get suspicious. But they didn't ask questions, and he pretended that everything was fine.   


    The actual procedure for the tumor sample was done three days after he agreed to it. In those three days he barely slept, and he had to force himself to eat. His headache continued, the clumsiness ever present, and he avoided reading; feeling very frustrated whenever he did attempt to read. He was now having a very difficult time with the subject; almost never able to read anything the first time he saw the characters. The part of himself that was in denial was shrinking, being replaced by a fear. What was he going to do? Was he going to die?   


    The next hospital visit after the samples were taken confirmed his worst fears. There were words thrown around like 'anaplastic', 'active cells', 'grade III', 'glioma', and 'deadly'. The gist of it was simple, despite all of the medical terms. He had brain cancer. If he didn't get surgery, he would die. Shit. Now what the hell was he supposed to do?! The answer was simple in the doctor’s mind. Get the god damn surgery. Shoon asked if he could have some time alone for a minute, to think. The man nodded in understanding, stepping outside of the room. 

    Shoon thought. He had two options. One: Don't get the surgery, or treatment, stay with the Kumi, and slowly die; or Two: Get treated, do the surgery, and the external radiation treatments, and whatever else he needed to, and practically live at the hospital; and leave the Kumi. He refused to think of staying with them and putting them through this with him. Either way they couldn't find out. He had to protect them from this. From himself. Finally, at great length, he made his decision. He called the doctor back in, and announced   


    "I'll do it. The surgery, when can I have it done?" In the end the surgery was set for thirteen days time. Shoon was nauseous. He didn't feel like going home, not prepared to see his Kumi members. Was this the best decision? Either way he was ditching them forever, this way they hated him—because he knew that they would, once he disappeared and never returned—but he could still keep an eye on them. The other way, he was dead, and they were left alone to grieve. He thought of how everyone had acted right after Taiyo died. The feeling inside of his body when he remembered the fallen boy. He didn't want to be the cause of that. Anything; hatred, was better than that feeling. He became more solid in his decision. Now, he just had to prepare to let them go.   


    When he arrived back home he was greeted by the rest of them, who had started dinner without him. Their ‘Welcome Home!'s, and smiles made his heart fill with something indescribable. Something similar to love, he thought, but this feeling made him want to cry.   


    "Come join us Kumi-cho! Yama-chan made dinner!" Daiki singsonged, with a look of strong affection Yamada's direction. Yamada didn't notice. No one one else seemed to either. Ah well.   


    "Shut up." Ryutaro breathed, an arm over Chinen's shoulders. Daiki nearly slugged him in the face, but Shoon stopped him with a look. Affection for them swelled in his chest, and a grin bloomed on his face as he sat down in his spot at the head of the table. As their leader, for just a bit longer. From the other end of the table Hikaru smiled at him, a big toothy grin. Shoon couldn't help but smile back. For a night, he thought, he would forget about the surgery—about the cancer—and just enjoy these wonderful people that he was proud to lead. 

    And so, he did. He stayed up late, talking with them, playing games, sharing stories, and telling jokes. One by one they all went to bed, until it was just him and Hikaru left awake. They had fallen into a silence, reality setting back in as Shoon noticed just how tired he was.   


    "Hikaru, can I request something from you?" He asked, serious. Hikaru looked up, surprised by the tone.   


    "Anything."

    "If anything was to happen to me...or if I can't be here anymore, or suddenly leave; whatever the scenario, I want you to watch over the Kumi for me." Hikaru looked at him in shock.   


    "What?! Me?" Shoon nodded.   


    "You're ready. You're very mature, Hachibee. If I were to appoint you as the next Kumi-cho, would you accept it?" He watched as Hikaru sat there, deep in thought. It was good that he was taking Shoon seriously, instead of brushing it off.   


    "Yes. I would. I'd do it." Hikaru decided. Shoon gave him an appreciative nod.

    "Thanks, Hachibee." He stood up. "I'm gonna go to bed."

    "Alright. Sweet dreams....Mayo." Hikaru whispered the last part, pulling Shoon in for a quick hug, before going off to bed himself. Hearing his own childhood nickname made Shoon’s heart catch in his throat. He escaped to his bedroom, where he let the silent tears roll down his cheeks. He cried himself to sleep that night.

    The next day he went out, searching for an apartment—a place to stay after he left the Kumi. He found one, and within three days he had paid for a year in rent, and was beginning to buy furniture. Just a couple of things. Like a futon, and a lamp or two. Over the rest of the week he discretely moved his belongings to the new apartment, his clothes and personal things. By the end of the first week he was ready to leave at a moment’s notice. When he wasn't doing that he stayed home, arranging his desk so that Hikaru could understand once he took over as Kumi-cho, and spending all of his spare time with the others; teaching Ryutaro how to fight, playing cards, or just sitting around talking with the boys. 

    He learned a lot that he hadn't noticed before. Like how Chinen and Ryutaro were secretly head over heels for each other, and just how much Daiki liked Yamada. They were all growing up. It was amazing. They were wondrous. And beautiful. And he loved them so much. He felt his heart breaking inside as the days went by, and he noticed himself doing little things he hadn't done before. He would kiss them all on the forehead before they went to bed, even the bigger ones, and he hugged them and listened to them talk very carefully, sure to remember exactly what they had said. He selfishly didn’t want to leave them.    


    Then, despite his choked desperation to savor every minute, his last day slipped by, his last goodnight kiss delivered, and he found himself the only one awake in the house. With a feeling of twisted bitter finality he sat down in his desk, and with great concentration that took a great deal of time, he wrote   


         Dear Everyone, __  
                I'm appointing Hikaru as the next Kumi-cho. Goodbye. I'm sorry.   
                          Yamashita Shoon

    He left the letter on the kitchen table and grabbed his coat off of his chair, exiting the house he had come to think of as his home. Leaving the family he assembled around himself over time. Walking away. To protect them; as was his duty as their Kumi-cho. To protect them he walked away and didn't look back.


End file.
